I am getting antsy.
On Wednesday morning, I have to take my Mom to the doctor for her bi-annual checkup.
You're probably wondering what the big deal is...why just the thought of bringing her to see the good ole' doc makes me shit in my pants (figuratively).
Well, it's like this.
See...my Mama is (A) the seventy-eight year old--Portuguese version--of a VERY STYLISH (she wears high heels everyday, people) Sophia Petrillo, (B) Has no mouth filter, and (C) Did I mention that she HAS NO FRICKIN MOUTH FILTER?
Yeah, let me give you an example.
Once, during a checkup, my Mama's doctor showed his disappointment in her because she had gained four pounds since her last visit. He looked over her paperwork, shook his head disapprovingly at her and said in his thick Egyptian accent, "Alda! You hhhhave gained four pounds! What is the meaning of this? I want you to explain everyone of those four pounds to me!"
So, my Mom looked at him and said in her sweetest (NOT) little Portuguese accent, "OK. ONE is my coat. TWO is my shoes. THREE is my clothes. And FOE-A is the donut I eat be-foe-wa I come to see you today. Deeeliscious!"
But WAIT. There's more!
Dudes, sit the hell down. You are not even going to believe what she said next.
She sat up all straight and regal and crap...like she was the Queen of Shitting Haagen Dazs, looked the Doc square in the eyes and said, "AND ANYWAYS! Why you getta mad at me fa foe-a pounds WHEN DA GIRLS DAT WORK FA YOU ARE SOOOOOOOO FAT? You splain dis to me?"
Oh my frickin hell. I wanted to crawl under my chair.
That's when the Doc looked at her and responded sternly, "ALDA! That is not the point! THEY are not my patients! You are!"
NEVER letting a sleeping dog lie, she responded, "I no cay-a! Da fat ladies in da doctor's office make a very BAD EXAMPLE fa da patients! Don't complain to me about foe-a pounds when your secretaries needa lose a hundra pounds!"
Yeah. She said A HUNDRA (they could really stand to lose like fifty pounds at the most, but whatever).
Thankfully, the Doc had a sense of humor and didn't throw her ass (and my ass---by association) out into the street. Instead, he looked at her, turned to me, and said, "I like your mother! She is TOUGH. But, she is CUTE."
Oh,yeah. She's freakin wicked cute, alright.
Sort of in the same ways that Rottweilers and Pitbulls are cute....
Pray for me. Seriously.